Food for the Soul
by totemosuki
Summary: Soon after Nakiri Azami's return, Erina is haunted by nightmares of a childhood filled with terror. An impromptu tasting session (of food made by a certain red-haired boy) turns out to be an unlikely source of comfort.


**First time writing fanfiction for Shokuge** **ki no Sōma! Admittedly not very comfortable with some parts of the series, but I like the plot and the relationships between characters. I really hope I've gotten the characters and details about food right (had to do some research so I hope I was accurate)**

* * *

 **"Food for the Soul"**

 _2332 words_

* * *

 _Throw it away._

 _It's worthless._

 _In the bin. Now._

Countless plates of food were lined up in front of her in neverending rows. Each time she swallowed a bite, the plate would disappear and a new one would appear in its place.

" _But father…"_ She heard her own tremulous voice whimpering. Her quivering hands were barely able to grip onto the knife and fork. Her surroundings were swallowed by darkness.

 _Do as I say_.

One furtive glance up, and she was greeted by countless faceless chefs, all clamouring to get to her, holding out gleaming plates of food, fighting to hear a word of critique. They were all after one thing and one thing only: her tongue.

Blood pounded in her ears. She tried to move, scream, run away, but her entire body was frozen in place, unwilling to submit to her own mind.

Suddenly, cold fingers enclosed around her arm in a vice-like grip, but when she looked down, there was nothing there. Pain shot up her arm as the invisible grip guided her arm to empty the contents of the plate, the food disappearing down into a dark abyss.

" _Erina-sama! Erina-sama!"_

 _You will obey me, won't you?_

* * *

Panting, Erina sat up.

Pressing a cold hand to her forehead, she struggled to catch her breath and calm her racing heart. The slight ache in her back reminded her that she was not at home, in her comfortable bed, but lying on the much smaller, much harder mattress in Polar Star Dormitory.

 _Home_. What was home? There was a time when she could call _that place_ where she had lived in her home.

But that was until he had returned, bringing with him an onslaught of memories she had struggled to suppress over the years.

She dared not let herself back into his clutches. She knew that around him, she had no choice but to obey. It was practically programmed into her system to comply with whatever he ordered her to do. No matter how much her mind screamed at her to reject it, reject it all, it was like muscle memory to her - her body would take over, paralysing her.

 _You will obey me, won't you?_

Memories of his words sent another shiver down her spine. Why was he back? Why couldn't he just leave her?

There was no way she was going to be able to sleep now - not when the notion of slipping back into darkness, slipping back into the realm of memories that haunted her terrified her so much.

She decided that she would go down, make herself a cup of tea, and hopefully last the night.

Cracking open her door, she stepped out into the welcoming glow of the lights illuminating the hallway. She padded down the stairs, and realised to her surprise that the lights in the kitchen were still on.

 _Who could be here at such unearthly hours?_

Erina mulled for a moment over the question of whether to give up and go back, but her curiosity had been piqued, so she decided to venture into the kitchen to find out who was there.

Fiery, red hair overshadowed the face of the boy standing by the counter, but there was no mistaking the identity of that boy. He appeared to be completely engrossed in the book laid out in front of him, completely lost in a world of his own. It seemed that he had not realised that another person had walked into the kitchen -

She suddenly found herself staring into a pair of golden eyes.

Plucking the piece of dried shrimp from between his teeth, Yukihira Sōma lifted his hand in a casual wave. "Yo, Nakiri. What brings you here?"

Erina scowled back - an act that had become familiar to her whenever he was around. "I could ask the same of you. I-"

"-couldn't sleep? Same here." Sōma said.

"Well, not quite," Erina muttered, but she decided that explaining her true circumstances would take too long. "Anyway, you should be resting you know. I'm not going to go easy on all of you during tomorrow's lessons."

"Relax, relax," Sōma said nonchalantly, waving his hand in a dismissive motion that sent annoyance flaring in Erina. "I'm just trying out some dishes - nothing exhausting."

Erina said nothing, only raised one eyebrow in response, as if to say _'You sure about that?'_

"Anyway, since you're here, why don't you help me taste one of my dishes?"

Erina was about to open her mouth and retort that _no one in their right mind_ would so casually ask her to taste her dishes and if he wanted her to do so, he had better make an appointment, get in line (which was filled for the rest of the year) and be prepared to pay exorbitant amounts, when she remembered her recent days in the Polar Star Dorm. The free spirit present in every member of the Dorm, reflected most clearly in their cooking, was what she was fighting so hard to preserve.

To hell with formalities!

"Alright then." A look of glee passed over his face that Erina felt the urge to wipe off. "Make me a cup of tea to go with it," she added, settling herself down on a stool by the counter.

A look passed over Sōma's face that Erina could not fathom, but he did not question anything. With a nod, he turned back to the stove, beginning to prepare his ingredients.

Though she willed herself not to, Erina found her gaze involuntarily (but unsurprisingly) turning towards Sōma as he cooked. The carefree stance he took, the merry whistling - they reminded her too much of a certain someone.

 _He's the spitting image of...his father_.

When she had first found out that the man she had admired all her lifetime was the father of the one person she could not stand, she could hardly believe it. But watching him cook now, she had to admit that the resemblance was striking. So striking, that she could almost imagine Saiba Jōichirō cooking for her again, after all these years.

She was almost mesmerised (though she would never admit it) by Sōma's deft movements. The way he sliced vegetables, poured oil onto a hot pan, arranged ingredients on a plate - it was all like a dance, as he seamlessly moved from one step to another.

Seeing cooking this free, this unrestrained - it was indeed a sight.

"Hello? Earth to Nakiri! You can stop staring - the food is ready."

Blinking, Erina snapped out of her trance as a plate of food was slid under her nose, the delicious smell making her mouth water. A cup of tea was set to its side.

"Apologies for the wait, supper is served." His trademark infuriating smirk made its reappearance.

How strange. While all the plates of food in her dream had only served to fill her with terror and dread, this one was warm, comforting, even inviting - a healing balm to her troubled heart.

Erina gazed down at the steaming mass with a critical eye. Shredded cabbage, slices of pork belly, fried egg, onions topped with slashes of mayonnaise and homemade sauce. There was no mistaking what it was.

"Okonomiyaki," she pronounced.

"Correct!" Sōma snapped his fingers, sending a spike of irritation through her. "Knew you would get it."

' _Is he belittling me?'_ Erina thought with a scowl. "Of course you would serve food like this."

"Eh?" He cocked his head to one side, appearing clueless.

"Never mind," sighed Erina, deciding for the second time in that short span of time that explanation was a waste of breath. Efforts to get under his skin never seemed to work, though the reverse couldn't be more false.

She was tempted to turn her nose up at the prospect that such simple street food could impress her God tongue, but something caused her to halt her actions. Over the past days in the Polar Star Dorm, she had learned to appreciate any and all sorts of food. Slowly, she had to admit, her walls were coming down.

And _him_. He was the one to blame for it.

Sighing, she decided that the proof was in the pudding and decided to taste the food for herself. She picked up the chopsticks lying beside the pancake and dug in.

The saltiness of the pork belly, intermingled with the fragrance of the onions and the sweetness of the sauce - they created a symphony of flavours in her mouth. And there was something else - something starchy and glutinous that enhanced the texture of this okonomiyaki...

Tasting it, a memory surfaced in her mind. Five year-old Erina strolling hand in hand with her grandfather past rows and rows of food stalls. When she was young, her grandfather would sneak her out of rigorous training sessions to attend the summer festivals - a brief respite from what was otherwise a punishing routine. She would demand to try everything, and the ever-doting grandfather would comply. Deep down, she had known that that was her one chance to enjoy eating.

One dish in particular had caught her fancy, and that was the okonomiyaki served by a genial old man. For years she had tried in vain to recreate that memorable flavour (that was until she had been forced to turn her attentions solely to gourmet food) but never could.

But this - this seemingly haphazard mass of ingredients was the closest thing she had to that, and in that moment, she understood why she was never able to recreate the dish. She could never recreate the joy that came in eating what her heart desired. When her father had tightened his grip, she had had to let go of any notions of selfish wants.

It was the culmination of the experiences she had had in this Dorm. With this okonomiyaki, delight - pure, simple, unadulterated - that she thought she could never experience anymore had resurfaced.

"Enjoying it?"

Hearing this, Erina's eyes, which at some unknown point in time had slid shut, promptly opened. Yukihira Sōma was staring at her, a smug grin on his face.

The scowl returned to Erina's face. "You included yam in this, right?" she asked, not deigning to respond to his question.

Sōma nodded. "As expected, you guessed it. I was reading more about potato dishes, since you were talking about it today, when I stumbled across this okonomiyaki recipe which included something called a _nagaimo_. Thought it was an actual long potato, but turned out to be yam. I looked around and found some lying around. Apparently it's used in Kansai-style okonomiyaki, and adds creaminess to the dish, causing it to be fluffier."

Erina nodded.

"So how about it, Nakiri? Would you, dare I say it, find it _delicious_?" The challenging glint in his eyes had returned.

A tinge of colour bloomed in her cheeks, and she raised the cup of tea to her lips to prevent any word of assent from escaping against her will.

"Ah, it was worth a shot." Sōma shrugged, then his expression turned solemn.

"So, what really brings you here?"

Erina nearly choked on her tea at those words. Had he guessed that something was bothering her? Was she that easy to read? "What do you mean?" she snapped.

"Well, my dad used to serve tea all the time to customers facing problems. Said something about how 'tea is for the troubled soul'." He turned his attention back to Erina. "Are you a troubled soul?"

His words disconcerted her, and she took another sip of tea to buy time.

"Is it about your father?"

Eyes widened, she set down the cup, flinching slightly - almost imperceptibly, but not to Sōma.

"Ah."

Her grip tightened around the warm teacup. "So what? I'm sorry that not everyone has such a great relationship with their father." She glared down at her rippling reflection in her tea. _Why did her voice have to shake?_

"You know Nakiri, I don't know what you went through with under your Dad's training," a calm voice suddenly said. A warm hand rested on her trembling shoulders, and Erina felt herself relaxing. "But you don't have to be afraid anymore, you know. Everyone in Polar Star Dorm is here for you."

She remained silent.

"You know, my Dad told me that food is the best way to convey your feelings." Sōma continued. "In the coming days, we'll show him. We'll show all of them what cooking should be."

It was a short speech - but Erina understood. If anything, the food he had served her spoke way more than any words he could say. It spoke of joy and acceptance, inviting Nakiri Erina, who had always lived for perfection, into a world of perfect imperfection. For once in her life, the tension rolled off her shoulders in waves, and she could smile. No longer did she have to live in her father's shadow. She could step out boldly into the radiance found nowhere else but in Polar Star Dorm.

"Anyway, you should go and sleep," Sōma finished, his face crinkling in a grin. "You're not going easy on us tomorrow, right?"

Erina said nothing, her only response a devious smile. Eating the last bit of food and draining the last of her tea, she stood up and turned to return to her room. Before stepping out of the room, she murmured, "Thanks for the food."

"It wasn't much!"

There was his catchphrase again. However, instead of igniting any sense of exasperation, it filled her with a sense of comfort.

That night, Erina's sleep was peaceful. The nightmares seemed to have vanished completely, not to return again.

* * *

" _Get up Yukihira! Now!"_

" _5 more minutes…"_

The sounds of a cold bucket of water sloshing over someone's head reverberated through Polar Star Dorm. Some felt pity, others shook their heads in amusement.

" _This is what you get for staying up late!"_


End file.
